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HRHL# CHAPTER 274
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 16:24:12 +0000 UTC"Want to scrub my back?"
Harry snapped out of his drowsiness in an instant.
Still, he maintained his gentlemanly composure and politely declined Veratia’s invitation.
After hanging up the phone, Harry took two deep breaths and returned to the dormitory.
To be honest, it was really hard to resist an invitation to bathe together from such a beautiful, charming older sister figure, okay?
Naturally, upon returning to the dorm, Harry didn’t forget to invite Neville and Seamus, but both of them had to go home for Christmas.
“My mum says that unless she’s dead, I have to spend the holidays with her,” Seamus said helplessly, though in truth, he really wanted to celebrate with his friends.
“Gran’s all alone at home, so I have to keep her company,” Neville said obediently.
This was also what Neville truly felt. After all, with both his parents hospitalized at St. Mungo’s, his grandmother was the only one left at home. If he didn’t go back to spend the holidays with her, she’d be all alone, which would be incredibly sad for an elderly woman.
Seamus’s situation was a bit unique. His grandmother was an Italian witch, so… his mother had picked up a few Italian habits.
“We’ll send you guys presents,” Ron said regretfully. “Any snacks you’re craving? Maybe this holiday we can swap some treats.”
“How about some new Muggle stuff? Besides cola, there’s got to be other tasty drinks, right?” Neville asked curiously.
“Oh, absolutely. Muggles are pretty great at coming up with food and drink,” Ron said, puffing out his chest as if he were an expert on Muggle culture.
To someone who didn’t know better, they might’ve thought Ron was a Muggle-born wizard.
Then again, considering Arthur Weasley—Ron’s dad—was the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, it wasn’t surprising he’d know a thing or two about Muggle items.
Since the next day was a weekend, they didn’t rush to bed. Instead, they stayed up in the dorm, chatting excitedly about what life might hold after graduation.
If fifth-year students talking about such things could be called planning ahead, then these third-years thinking about it were getting way ahead of themselves.
As the holidays approached, most students lost their patience for studying—even those in the Duelling Club were no exception.
At the last Duelling Club meeting before the Christmas break, everyone was a bit distracted, their minds already wandering to holiday plans.
Harry didn’t say much about it, mostly because he was swamped. Cassandra had dragged him into practicing spell creation, just like they did a hundred years ago.
Up on the ceiling, Sebastian’s eyes glistened with emotion as he floated.
It’s back. It’s all back!
That same old feeling!
In the Great Hall, hardly any students were studying. Aside from a few academic obsessives like Hermione, a handful who genuinely loved learning, and some who were fooling themselves into thinking they were studying, most were noisily playing wizard chess or poker in little cliques.
“This is absolutely outrageous!” Ron exclaimed, gripping a copy of the Daily Prophet with indignation.
“What’s wrong?” someone nearby asked with concern.
“Look at this!” Ron jabbed angrily at the newspaper. “The Wizard Chess World Championship was held in Seoul, and because Hamilton didn’t put his pieces back in the box lid, the Korean wizards ruled it a foul under their rules and declared him the loser!”
“What? That’s shameless!” the surrounding students cried out, furious.
Even though they didn’t follow wizard chess, such disgraceful behavior still blew their minds.
“I told you so,” Hermione said.
“Alright, let’s focus on something happier,” Neville said, gathering the books on the table. “No matter how mad we get, it won’t change the match’s outcome. All we can do is wait for the Ministry of Magic to protest.”
The Ministry of Magic protesting?
Ron thought about Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic…
Did he have the backbone for that?
“In times like these, we need to strike hard!” Cassandra declared from the side. “If we let a tiny country like that bully Britain, we’ll become the laughingstock of the world!”
“What’s the use? We could barely handle Argentina,” Hermione said glumly.
Cassandra clearly hadn’t adjusted from a century ago. Back in her time, both the British wizarding and Muggle worlds were forces to be reckoned with.
Things were different now. Ever since the First World War, Britain had been on a downward slide, especially by the 1980s.
First, Lord Mountbatten became the “explosion-proof king” at sea, and then they nearly lost big time in the Falklands.
“How could that be?” Cassandra said, struggling to accept it.
“We almost didn’t even take back the Falkland Islands,” Seamus said with a shrug. “How can we make Britain great again when we’re stuck with those incompetent Muggles?”
In truth, the wizarding and Muggle worlds weren’t entirely separate at the top. They were interconnected—one’s success was the other’s, and one’s failure dragged the other down. The Muggle royalty and 10 Downing Street had always maintained contact with the Ministry of Magic.
But after Voldemort’s bloodbath, the wizarding world had suffered a significant setback, leaving an already struggling British magical community in an even worse state.
“You can’t only love your country when it’s winning, can you?” Hermione said with a shrug.
The incident was bound to be just a passing episode, but it clearly left Cassandra deep in thought.
She recalled Veratia’s ambition to revive the Austrian wizarding world and decided that when she returned to the Malfoy family, she’d discuss the current state of the British wizarding world with her father and brother.
The holidays arrived as promised. After tidying his room, Harry spotted Sirius lounging in the common room.
Seeing Harry approach, Sirius gave an elegant wave.
“Harry,” he said with a smile, “Happy Christmas.”
“You too, Sirius,” Harry replied with a grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed at a nearby calendar. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s December 16th. It’s a bit early for ‘Happy Christmas.’”
“You’re right, clever girl,” Sirius said with a chuckle.
Then, leaning down to Harry, he added, “Your mum, Lily, was just like that…”
“Lily?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“Harry’s mum,” Sirius said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Come on, the carriage is waiting outside. Once Professor Lupin arrives, we can head out.”
As they walked, Sirius whispered to Harry, “Don’t worry, I checked the lunar calendar… the full moon’s on the 27th, after Christmas.”
“That’s great,” Harry said, relieved. It meant Professor Lupin could have a peaceful Christmas.
He let Sirius and the others head to the carriage first while he made his way to the Great Hall.
“I thought you were going to leave me waiting forever, Potter,” came a haughty voice.
It was Cassandra.
She looked stunning today, dressed in a formal black robe with the white lace gloves Harry had given her, every bit the quintessential Slytherin beauty.
And the most striking one at that.
On the way, Harry had been wrestling with what to do.
In past summers, Cassandra had always insisted he hold her hand—claiming it was “proper etiquette for a sidekick.”
Harry had believed her, and so it went for years…
But now, he was starting to catch on. Holding hands was a bit intimate, wasn’t it? Still, sticking to old habits felt safer—at least it would bring them closer.
But… how exactly should he go about it?
He quickly made up his mind to play it casual, letting it happen naturally, like water seeping silently into the earth.
“No way,” Harry said, clearing his throat. He half-extended his hand. “Shall we?”
He was prepared—if Cassandra didn’t take his hand, he’d just pull it back and scratch his head to avoid any awkwardness.
Everything was under control.
Cassandra stared at Harry’s outstretched hand, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected him to make the first move.
“Well, well, a proper little sidekick, aren’t you, Potter?” she said, a smile finally breaking through, the mole beneath her eye seeming to sparkle.
She was clearly delighted.
She reached out and looped her arm through his.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Don’t keep your little animal friends waiting…”
“Animal friends?” Harry blinked, confused.
“Oh, yes, yes,” Cassandra said, tilting her head slightly. “You know, that beaver Granger, the red-haired mole Weasley, and your dog of a godfather—aren’t they your little menagerie?”
Harry was dumbfounded.
Yep, even after all this time, Cassandra was still Cassandra.
“Okay, good kids don’t give people nicknames,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “At least not to their faces, alright?”
“Are you begging me?” Cassandra asked with a teasing smile.
Harry put on a serious face. “Yes, I’m begging you, Cassandra. Please.”
“Oh, fine. I’ll grant my little sidekick’s request,” Cassandra said, her lips curving upward as she walked out of the Great Hall with Harry.
Sirius, waiting by the carriage, hadn’t expected Harry to show up arm-in-arm with Cassandra. He certainly hadn’t expected his godson to be escorted by a Slytherin older sister.
Merlin’s beard, I…
He suddenly recalled Lupin’s advice.
Well, I’ve done you proud, Prongs.
Look at our boy, going after the finest cabbage in the patch!
And the juiciest one from the Malfoy garden, no less!
A grin spread across his face.
But there was something even more entertaining.
That wicked Grindelwald girl—how would she react if she knew Harry and a Malfoy were this close?
As his godfather, Sirius wouldn’t stoop to tattling to Veratia, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the drama.
A love triangle, perhaps…
Having been burned by Veratia once, Sirius wouldn’t mind seeing Miss Grindelwald as the loser in this game.
The thought of a defeated Veratia made his grin impossible to suppress.
“Your dog of a godfather is smiling rather…” Cassandra whispered to Harry, trailing off before saying “creepily.”
After all, he was Harry’s godfather. She had to show some restraint, lest Harry get upset.
She knew how much Harry valued his relationships.
Harry, assuming Sirius was just proud to see him so close with a pretty girl, smiled and said, “He’s my godfather, and my dad’s best friend. Maybe he’s just proud?”
“Proud of what?” Cassandra asked, feigning ignorance.
Harry’s face flushed slightly. He knew exactly what his godfather was proud of, but saying it outright to Cassandra felt too embarrassing. He coughed twice and said, “Maybe he thinks his godson’s growing up.”
Quickly changing the subject, he added, “I invited Poppy earlier—where is she?”
“You invited that donkey?” Cassandra asked suspiciously.
“Hey! How dare you call me that!” came Poppy’s indignant voice from behind them.
Cassandra turned to see Poppy in her ghostly form.
No wonder they hadn’t heard her—she was a ghost, after all. Ghosts don’t make footsteps.
“Hey, Cassandra!” Poppy said, pointing at her with a pout. “I’m a unicorn! How could you call me a donkey?”
“Oh,” Cassandra said with a dismissive wave, turning to Harry. “Looks like this school’s got one heartbroken donkey now…”
Poppy was furious. She grabbed her Hufflepuff robe and bit it in frustration, glaring at Cassandra.
“Let’s go,” Harry said to Poppy, then turned to Cassandra. “And you, Cassandra—why do you have to tease Poppy?”
“Because it’s fun,” Cassandra said with a mischievous grin, completely unbothered by her little sidekick’s scolding.
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
